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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805066">Better Guess Again (Looks Can Be Deceiving)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aktura/pseuds/aktura'>aktura</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(Robin sure doesn't know!), Are They Or Aren't They?, Attempt at Humor, Dustin Henderson being an Idiot, Innuendo, M/M, No beta we die like mne, Steve Harrington Being an Idiot, Suspicious Robin Buckley, a whole lot of implications, just idiots all around, might be crack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:14:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aktura/pseuds/aktura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>So, Robin has this theory. An inkling, you might say – just the barest sliver of suspicion since Steve is being rather tight-lipped on the subject...</i>
</p><p>Robin suspects that Steve and Dustin might have a thing going on. Keyword being <i>might</i>. Point is, she doesn’t know for sure, and it’s driving her <i>nuts</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Buckley &amp; Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley &amp; Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley &amp; Steve Harrington &amp; Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington/Dustin Henderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Better Guess Again (Looks Can Be Deceiving)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleNovas/gifts">TurtleNovas</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So once upon a time I sent TurtleNovas a couple of anonymous asks LIKE THE COWARD I AM, and the replies I received made me go “Hmm…”. </p><p>So, without further ado, enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>//</p><p>So, Robin has this theory. An <em>inkling</em>, you might say – just the barest sliver of suspicion since Steve is being rather tight-lipped on the subject. </p><p>Or rather, he’s pretending that the innuendos she sometimes drops on him don’t even register. And fine, Robin is aware that there might be a tiny, minuscule chance that he actually <em>doesn’t</em> have a clue what she’s getting at, but it’s a bit difficult to find a nice tactful way of asking him about it outright. </p><p>Not that she’s ever bothered to be tactful around Steve up to this point, but she can remember how nice he’d been when she’d told him about Tammy Thompson – how light her chest had suddenly felt when he’d made that stupid joke and they’d laughed and Robin had realized that he honestly didn’t care.</p><p>They hadn’t even really been friends back then – nowhere near as close as they are now, nearly two years later – so she feels that she owes Steve better than to corner him and blurt out <em>hey, are you and Dustin just fucking with people, or are you actually fucking?</em></p><p>Point is, she’s not one hundred percent sure, because things keep being implied and then debunked, and most of the time she’d swear that the two dipshits responsible aren’t even aware that they’re doing it. </p><p>So the question is, are they actually a thing or are they just being dumbasses? </p><p>Robin doesn’t know for sure. And it’s driving her <em>nuts</em>. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>i.</strong>
</p><p>The temperature hits 84 degrees on April 30th, 1987. Tragically, it turns out to be a Thursday afternoon.</p><p>“Fuck this,” Robin declares where she’s lying spread-eagle on the floor of Family Video. </p><p>“Yeah,” Steve agrees.</p><p>“No, seriously, why are we even working?” Robin lets her head fall to the side so that she can look over at him. “Who’s gonna drive all the way out here to rent a movie in this weather?!”</p><p>“No one.” Steve peers back at her. He’s also sprawled out on the floor, having taken one look at her and then shrugged before deciding to join her. “Why are we on the floor again?”</p><p>“Because hot air rises,” Robin says, “and it’s worth a shot.”</p><p>Steve huffs in reply, looking almost as miserable as Robin feels; his hair’s plastered to his forehead and along the sides of his face – which seems to be growing redder by the minute – and the T-shirt he’s wearing is damp with sweat to the point of practically sticking to his chest. </p><p>Like with many other things it’s totally Keith’s fault, because the AC is broken but instead of waiting around for someone to show up and fix it, Keith fucked off for an extended lunch break as soon as he’d called for the repairman. And even though they’re essentially contractually trapped in a hotbox and suffering for it, Steve still looks like he’s gearing up to argue against Robin’s understanding of basic physics. </p><p>It’s kind of admirable, and she’s almost curious to hear his argument, but before he has a chance to say anything the door of Family Video slams wide open. Normally Robin would probably consider it a merciful interruption, but as it is she just groans at the thought of having to move; since they’re both on the floor and hidden behind the counter, one of them sadly has to get up and actually earn their meager paycheck.</p><p>Robin sluggishly knocks the toe of her left sneaker against Steve’s ankle. “Your turn.”</p><p>“Is <em>not</em>,” Steve mutters petulantly, weakly kicking back at her.</p><p>“Uh, hello?” a familiar voice says, and a moment later Dustin’s head pops into view as he peers down at them from the other side of the counter.</p><p>“Oh thank god,” Robin says with much feeling, “it’s not my problem.”</p><p>“I hate you so much,” Steve manages to muster, but he doesn’t bother arguing her point.</p><p>Dustin grins down at them. He’s wearing the trucker hat Steve got him for his 16th birthday, the one that proclaims <em>Made in 1971</em>, and even though his hair’s grown long and thick enough for Robin to suspect that his curls might actually be a hazard in this heat, he looks more refreshed than she can ever remember feeling. </p><p>“What are you guys doing on the floor?”</p><p>“Hot,” Robin says. </p><p>“I know I am, but what are you?” Steve mutters, and it makes Dustin snort an almost-laugh despite the lackluster delivery.</p><p>“Steve, get up,” Dustin says. “I have a free period and I want a slushie.”</p><p>“Just leave me here to die,” Robin sighs as Steve clumsily rolls over onto his stomach and then pushes himself up onto his hands and knees.</p><p>“I’m taking a break,” he tells her over his shoulder as he crawls around the counter, and Robin waves at him to be on his way.</p><p>“Why is it so hot in here?” she can hear Dustin ask once Steve finally makes it to his feet and they head out the door.</p><p>“Keith,” Steve says, and then the door swings closed and Robin can’t make out anything else – not that much else needs to be said since Dustin’s well versed in Keith’s managerial style by now; a simple “Keith” is usually enough of an explanation.</p><p>Robin gropes for one of the empty VHS boxes shoved behind the counter and half-heartedly wiggles it in front of her face to summon some kind of draft. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s better than nothing, and she groans in relief into the silence of the shop.</p><p>Then she does it again, because she’d sounded kind of like something outta <em>Dawn of the Dead</em>, and actually, that was pretty cool.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s cold again!” Steve exclaims as he returns with Dustin in tow a whole two hours later.</p><p>Robin glowers at him from behind the counter. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It is. Thanks for being here to help me mop the repair guy’s brow while he pulled a bunch of dead rats out of the AC unit, Steve.”</p><p>“First off, I’m happy I missed that. Secondly—” Steve’s holding two slushies – one orange and one red – and he triumphantly places the orange one on the counter in front of her. “—<em>you’re welcome</em> for bringing you something delicious to drink.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Robin says. “I sure could have used this, oh, <em>an hour and a half ago</em>.”</p><p>Steve turns to Dustin, who’s sipping on a blue slushie of his own as he watches the exchange. “This is what I have to put up with,” Steve tells him, and Dustin laughs.</p><p>Robin squints at them. “Why is your tongue purple?” she asks Steve before turning to Dustin. “Why are <em>both</em> of your tongues purple?”</p><p>“Uh, I had a cherry slushie,” Steve says, like it’s obvious.</p><p>“And I had a blueberry,” Dustin chimes in.</p><p>“Hold on,” Robin says. Maybe she should have something to drink after all. “Wait, are you two—”</p><p>“Geniuses?” Steve says. “Yes!”</p><p>“We’re maximizing the slushie taste experience!” Dustin explains, and then he demonstratively trades slushies with Steve.</p><p>And that— Kinda makes sense? </p><p>“You’re both fucking idiots,” Robin tells them.</p><p>She won’t admit it, but her slushie turns out to be pretty refreshing. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>ii.</strong>
</p><p>“Oh, hey,” Steve says, “you got anything going on tomorrow?”</p><p>Robin shoots him a look. “Yeah, <em>work</em>. Sure hope to see you there.”</p><p>Steve rolls his eyes. “<em>After</em> work.”</p><p>“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Robin cheerfully replies and pushes her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose.</p><p>The warm weather’s still going strong into May, and they’ve all congregated at Steve’s place this lovely Sunday to make good use of his pool. Robin’s stretched out on one of the lounge chairs on the patio, working on her tan, but she thinks she might just break in her new swimsuit and join the kids in the pool later.</p><p>“So?” Steve says from the chair next to her, and his voice is almost drowned out by the happy shrieks of the children.</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?”</p><p>“I need to buy a new bed. Wanna help pick one out?”</p><p>Robin turns to look at him. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but I’m gonna do it anyway: what happened to your old one?”</p><p>Steve sighs. “Dustin and I broke it last night.”</p><p>“Huh,” Robin says. She turns her attention back to the pool where Max is trying to climb onto Lucas’ shoulders. “That’s— more than I wanted to know, thank you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Steve says, “it’s not like I was gonna turn down a bet I knew I’d win.”</p><p>“Seriously. Please stop talking.”</p><p>“You asked,” Steve says, and he has the gall to sound annoyed at her.</p><p>“You could’ve said ‘None of your business’!” Robin hisses at him as Dustin swims over to the edge of the pool and pulls himself out of the water. “I don’t need to know everything, geez!”</p><p>Dustin lopes over to where they’re both sitting. “What’s none of Robin’s business?” he asks as he looms over Steve.</p><p>“Dude,” Steve reaches up to press his palm against Dustin’s bare chest, giving him a shove. “You’re dripping all over me!” </p><p>The push forces Dustin to take a step back, but he quickly recovers and crowds closer again, grinning as he shakes his head above where Steve’s reclining. His curls dance with the motion as they send water flying all over.</p><p>“Dustin!” Steve shouts, and he looks about ready to tackle Dustin off his feet and back into the pool, but then he collapses back down against the lounger, apparently resigned to his fate.</p><p>“What doesn’t Robin need to know?” Dustin asks again, because he’s always been pretty proprietary when it comes to Steve.</p><p>Robin bets that the thought of Steve telling her something Dustin doesn’t already know eats away at him just a little.</p><p>“I was telling her about last night,” Steve says.</p><p>“To which I threw up in my mouth a little,” Robin chimes in.</p><p>Dustin appears genuinely confused. “Why?”</p><p>Robin looks between him and Steve. They both appear to be perfectly unashamed. </p><p>“Because there are some things I don’t want or need to be able to picture in my head,” she slowly explains.</p><p>Dustin frowns. “You’ve seen Steve jump before.”</p><p>“Jump,” Robin says, “right.”</p><p>“Dustin bet me two bucks that I couldn’t jump high enough on my bed to touch the ceiling with my nose,” Steve clarifies. </p><p>“Oh.” Robin pauses. <em>Awkward</em>. “So, uh, could you?”</p><p>Dustin interrupts before Steve can answer. “What did you think we were talking about?” he asks.</p><p>Robin decides that that’s her cue to exit the conversation, even though Dustin still seems more confused than anything else.</p><p>“You know what?” she says. “Speaking of jumping, I’m gonna join the kids in the water because whoo, it’s hot out here, am I right?!” </p><p>She scrambles off the lounge chair and tries her best to appear like she’s not running away as she hurries towards the edge of the pool. </p><p>“Make way, children!” she yells, motioning for the kids to clear some space in the water. </p><p>“We’re not <em>children</em>,” Mike shouts back at her. He sounds annoyed, which is of course delightful and exactly why Robin still insists on calling them all that.</p><p>Nevertheless, the kids move out of the way to give Robin room to jump in.</p><p>In the background, she can vaguely hear Dustin comment something to Steve as she pushes off the edge and adopts a perfectly practiced cannonball form.</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> weird,” she hears Steve reply just before she breaks the surface.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>iii.</strong>
</p><p><em>Don’t bother knocking</em>, Steve had said.</p><p><em>I’ll probably be in my room</em>, he’d said. </p><p><em>Just come find me</em>, he’d said.</p><p>One thing’s for sure – Robin is going to punch him the next time she sees him, which hopefully won’t be any time soon; Steve’s bedroom door is ajar, and she thinks it might be a blessing that she can’t actually see what’s going on in there at the moment because—</p><p>“What are you waiting for?” Steve’s voice says. “Just do it.”</p><p>Dustin’s reply is kind of muffled. “There’s no way it’s gonna fit.”</p><p>“Don’t be a pussy – just shove it in!”</p><p>“I’m telling you, Steve. It’s not gonna fit. It’s too big.”</p><p>“Ow! What are you doing?”</p><p>“Just— just leave it alone and let me do it, okay?”</p><p>“Fine, then push it in!”</p><p>“I’m trying, Steve! It’s not like I’ve ever done this before! Oh—!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I think it’s stuck.”</p><p>Robin bumps her hip into the hallway table in her haste to turn around and get the hell out of Steve’s house. </p><p>The piece of furniture rocks on its legs, nearly sending the potted plant that’s perched atop it plummeting towards the floor before Robin’s reflexes kick in and she dives to save it.</p><p>There’s a moment of silence where all she can hear is her own heartbeat in her ears as she hugs the pot securely to her chest, and then—</p><p>“Is that Robin?” Dustin says.</p><p>“There is no way I’m coming in there!” Robin shouts over her shoulder.</p><p>“Robin!” Steve yells. “Get your ass over here and help!”</p><p>Robin weighs the horrors of what she might be about to see against the potential blackmail material it’ll provide. Oh, and the opportunity to assist two of her friends, of course.</p><p>“Alright, fine,” she decides after a moment. “But I’m keeping my eyes closed!”</p><p>She sets the plant back onto the table and squeezes her eyes shut as tightly as she can, covering them with her hands for good measure. Then she carefully shuffles her way into Steve’s bedroom, using an elbow to shove the door open.</p><p>She makes it about two feet into the room before the toe of her right shoe catches onto something that sends her freefalling and crashing down onto the floor with a startled yelp. Mercifully her eyes are still closed.</p><p>“Dude, why’d you cover your eyes?” she can hear Dustin ask. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Robin groans an affirmative, twisting around to sit on her butt and rub at the ache in her knees. She listens for any incriminating sounds, and when she doesn’t hear anything she carefully opens her eyes—</p><p>—only to be greeted by the sight of a mountain of wood piled high by the foot of Steve’s bed. There’s a bunch of tools next to the pile – a hammer, several screwdrivers in different sizes, and even a saw – and spread out across the floor between where Dustin and Steve are sitting are a few additional wooden pieces, which is definitely what she tripped over. </p><p>It looks like they’ve been trying to fit the pieces together to build— something, though at the moment Dustin’s picking through several small plastic bags filled with nails or screws or wood plugs or something like that as Steve squints down at a few large sheets of paper.</p><p>“You know what? These instructions <em>suck</em>,” he says, throwing the papers to the floor.</p><p>“Well maybe you should’ve gotten a dresser that actually came assembled,” Dustin tells him.</p><p>“Yeah? Well maybe <em>you</em> should’ve—” Steve flounders for words “—learned how to fit a plug into a hole instead of how to build that Cellophane radio thing.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, are you talking about Cerebro, the <em>Cadillac</em> of ham radios? Cerebro, which I used to discover a secret Russian military base? A base, which if left undetected, would have doomed all of Hawkins? <em>That</em> Cerebro?”</p><p>Steve shoots Dustin a dark look.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Dustin says, “if I knew you were planning on buying this thing I would’ve totally devoted myself to carpentry instead of radios! Sure, we would all be dead by now, but the furniture we left behind would’ve been <em>expertly</em> put together!”</p><p>Steve picks at his thumb. “I think I have a splinter,” he mutters.</p><p>Robin closes her eyes and rubs at her temples. “Just shut the hell up, the both of you,” she says. “And hand me those instructions.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>iv.</strong>
</p><p><em>Brook’s Steakhouse</em> opens its doors in mid-June on the corner of Oak and Cornwallis in downtown Hawkins. It’s a nice place, though not as fancy as <em>Enzo’s</em> – ‘reasonably priced’ might be the word for it, unless you’re working at a place like Family Video or you’re still in high school, in which case it’s still pretty pricey.</p><p>But hey, you only turn twenty one once, which is why Robin and Dustin have pooled their assets together and are taking Steve out for his birthday. </p><p>Or that was the plan at least; Robin’s been sitting parked outside Steve’s house for five minutes now and they’re both no-shows. Steve’s BMW isn’t in the driveway, but its absence doesn’t tell her much since the car’s in the shop being detailed; that’s the whole reason Robin borrowed her parents’ Saab in the first place so she could drive them all into town. She can see Dustin’s bike leaning against the wall of the house, so she’s pretty sure they’re inside, and she’s about to lean on the horn again when the front door of the house swings open and Dustin comes rushing out. </p><p>“Sorry!” he says, crawling into the backseat of the car as Steve steps out of the house and closes the door. “Sorry! I know we’re late! We were… doing a thing.”</p><p>Leaning over to peer through the passenger side window, Robin watches Steve lock the door. When he turns and carefully makes his way to the car she can clearly tell that he’s limping.</p><p>“Keeping it classy, guys,” she says as Steve opens the passenger side door and climbs in.</p><p>Steve appears confused for a moment, but then he gets this look on his face that tells Robin that he knows he’s being insulted but isn’t really sure how or in what way.</p><p>“Yeah, well, it was Dustin’s fault,” he says, and when he turns to glare at Dustin, Robin spots a band-aid stuck onto Steve’s right temple.</p><p>“How is this my fault?!” Dustin sounds incredulous as he scoots into the center of the backseat and leans forward until he’s poking his head in between Robin and Steve. “Do I look like I can control cats? Robin, do I look like a cat controller?!”</p><p>“Busy driving here,” Robin says as she puts the car into drive and backs out of the driveway.</p><p>Steve grumbles something beneath his breath as he shifts in his seat, obviously in some kind of discomfort.</p><p>“That’s right!” Dustin says to Steve before turning his attention back to Robin. “Guess who fell out of a tree this morning and decided to blame <em>me</em> for it?”</p><p>“It was <em>your cat!</em>” Steve exclaims.</p><p>“Tews is <em>not</em> my cat! He just— lives with me. And I didn’t tell you to climb up after him!”</p><p>“Fine,” Steve agrees, “but you were thinking about doing it yourself – I knew that look on your face! – and I didn’t want to have to explain to your mom that her son broke his neck trying to get her cat out of a twenty-foot tall tree!”</p><p>“If you know my face so well you would have known that that wasn’t my about-to-climb-a-tree face. That was my I-hate-you-so-much-you-damn-cat face, with an element of my you-can-stay-up-there-forever-for-all-I-care face.“</p><p>“You know cats can usually go both up <em>and</em> down trees, right?” Robin points out. </p><p>Steve snorts. “We’re not idiots. We just—”</p><p>“—didn’t want to take that risk, okay?” Dustin finishes. “My last cat was eaten. <em>Eaten</em>, Robin! Very traumatic experience – I don’t want to talk about it. But what if it had happened again?!”</p><p>“Yeah, what if an eagle or something had reached him before we did?!”</p><p>“That sounds—” Robin tries to find the right word before settling on “—implausible.”</p><p>“But not <em>impossible</em>,” Dustin triumphantly declares.</p><p>Robin sighs as downtown Hawkins comes into view. “I guess. Forget it. Let’s just agree that you’re heroes.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Dustin says. “Anyway, that’s why we were late. Because we had to go over to my place to look for Tews, and then Steve fell out of the tree – which totally inspired Tews to climb down to safety, so he’s fine, you don’t have to worry – but Steve ripped his pants so we had to go back to his house so that he could change clothes. And while he did that I channeled my inner nurse and gave him some well needed TLC.”</p><p>“He’s pretty good at that,” Steve tells her, which makes Dustin grin. “Steady hands.”</p><p>“You know what?” Robin says as she slows to a cruise. “It’s Steve’s birthday, so I’m just gonna let that one slide.”</p><p>“Uh, thank you?” Steve says, looking back at Dustin, who shrugs.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Robin tells them both as she pulls off the road and into <em>Brook’s</em> parking lot. “Happy birthday. Now help me find a good spot so that we can get the hell out of the car and have some steak.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>v.</strong>
</p><p>It’s not until she arrives for her shift on Friday morning that Robin remembers the book she’d promised Dustin he could borrow, the one she’d left on the kitchen table when she rushed out of the house fifteen minutes earlier.</p><p>“I totally forgot about it,” she tells Steve, who doesn’t seem very concerned.</p><p>“You can give it to him later,” he says.</p><p>An easy enough solution, but Robin’s still feeling frustrated. “I had it in the car when I drove by your place last night, but the lights were all off. Otherwise I would’ve dropped it off with you.”</p><p>“Yeah, I stayed over at Dustin’s.” Steve yawns. “Not that either of us got much sleep.”</p><p>Robin considers herself a woman who learns from past experience, so instead of blurting out <em>What? With Mrs. Henderson in the house?!</em> she takes a deep breath – slow inhale, long exhale – and says, “Yeah? What’d you do all night?”</p><p>Steve rubs a hand over his face. “I was up on Weathertop holding some kind of antenna over my head, and Dustin was on his radio trying to eavesdrop on a foreign government.”</p><p>“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Robin manages to say completely straight-faced. “I was actually kind of wondering why Dustin wanted to borrow my dad’s book on the politics of South America.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Steve mumbles. He’s got his arms folded on top of the counter now and his head’s buried in them, and he sounds like he’s about to fall asleep right where he stands.</p><p>“The things we do for love,” Robin says and gives his back a light pat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>vi.</strong>
</p><p>The house is quiet, but the lights are on and the front door’s unlocked, so Robin lets herself in like she usually does.</p><p>“Steve?” she calls as she steps into the hall. “Are you home?”</p><p>There’s no reply, so she pokes her head into the sunroom – a new addition to the house, though who knows why since Steve’s parents are never here and Steve sure didn’t come up with the idea on his own – but it’s empty, as is the patio area that’s visible beyond the glass doors.</p><p>Robin hums under her breath and heads into the living room to check if Steve’s maybe fallen asleep on the couch again, and she’s halfway through the room, approaching the couch from behind, when Dustin suddenly pops up from behind the back of it and nearly gives her a heart attack.</p><p>“Robin!” he exclaims, face flushed and voice a bit breathless. “Hi!”</p><p>“Fuck! You scared the shit out of me!” Robin presses her palm to her chest, trying to will her heart to stop racing. “Seriously, don’t do that again! Didn’t you hear me calling before?!”</p><p>“Sorry,” Dustin says, though he sounds more flustered than regretful.</p><p>“Whatever,” Robin says. “I got your book.” She holds the hardback up, giving it a little shake for emphasis.</p><p>“Great! Thank you!” Dustin’s hands clench where they’re gripping the back of the couch, and he doesn’t rush up to take the book from Robin as she’s expected. Instead, he says, “Can you, uh, maybe put it on the table over there?” and points to the side table next to the bookshelves on Robin’s right.</p><p>“Sure. Where’s Steve hiding?” she asks as she places the book down onto the table, and Dustin suddenly looks very shifty.</p><p>“Uh,” he says, and that’s when Steve also pops up from behind the back of the couch.</p><p>“Hey, Robin,” he casually says, like his hair isn’t an absolute <em>mess</em>.</p><p>“What the hell happened to you?” Robin can’t help but blurt out, because wow, that’s quite the sight. </p><p>“Uh,” Dustin says again, and his face does this interesting thing where its shade is gradually deepening into a tomato red.</p><p>“This is—” Steve begins, but then falters. “Actually, it’s exactly what it looks like.”</p><p>Robin snorts. “Aren’t you a bit too old to be play wrestling on the couch?”</p><p>“Well, maybe,” Dustin says, glancing at Steve, “but we weren’t—”</p><p>“You know what,” Robin interrupts. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. But my parents want me home for dinner, so I’m just here to drop off the book. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?”</p><p>“Right…” Dustin says, drawing the word out. Then he turns to Steve. “Maybe we should, like, lock the front door once she leaves?”</p><p>“Yes!” Steve scrambles off the couch, running his fingers through his hair in an apparent attempt to tame it. “That’s a great idea! C’mon, Robin!” </p><p>He practically herds her out of the house, and Robin barely has time to react before the front door slams closed behind her and she hears the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.</p><p>“Dipshits,” she mutters beneath her breath as she makes her way down the driveway.</p><p>All these mixed signals really are driving her kind of crazy. </p><p>//</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Steve's line in #5 was shamelessly stolen from <i>Shadowhunters</i> and somewhat adapted to suit this little fic.</p><p>Title is from Christina Milian’s <i>When You Look At Me</i>.</p><p>The ask that started it all can be found here: https://turtlenovas.tumblr.com/post/611505897714384896/robin-why-are-your-tongues-purple-steve-i-had-a</p></blockquote></div></div>
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